Cabe the Babe,
Well, shit. Looks like I well and truly fucked the pooch right into next week, this time. If you’re reading this— and weren’t right next to me doing something incredibly stupid and getting killed for it, too— it means I’ve gone on to that grand barcrawl in the sky. Space. Wherever it is that souls actually go when they’ve moved on from meaty existence.
Wherever I happen to have ended up, whatever I happen to be doing there, I want you to know that if I am capable of stringing two words together in the cosmic dust of what was once my mind, it’s about you. I will never forget you, Cabe. Not in a million years or a million reincarnated lifetimes. You’re my best friend, and knowing you has been the privilege and the wild ride of a lifetime.
Keep the goldfish going for me, won’t you? Can’t let people go and assume they’ve gotten off the hook just because I’m dead.
I also wanted you to have your flask back. It doesn’t feel right, letting it rot in storage or being pawned off with whatever tiny estate I’ve cobbled together over the years. As for the eye, well. Maybe you’ll know where that goes. If not, keep it in your pocket. It’s an excellent ice-breaker.
Your personal poltergeist if that’s how this works,
Jesse